Poem by Patricia Gomes
Photo by Ariel Magidson

 
 
 
Dissolution / Doubts
 

I assumed there was more to them.
More substance, a concretion. More
to them than there is
to us.

Neglect is visible now:
paint flakes along the baseboards,
white chips scattered by a careless broom.
Cracks appear on load-bearing walls, spotty faucets leak
to quench the thirst of the ancient cat
no more concerned with our presence than global financing.

Demolition is no less interesting
than construction. Will there be explosives,
the filmed obligatory dramatic implosion?
And just where in hell is the rescue squad?

I’m staring, gawking like a red-eared 10-year old
with a dirty magazine because I assumed,
I assumed there was more to them
than there is to us.



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